The Eastern Dwarfs: Part One - The Red Fields
by Leo deSouza
Summary: Hi folks. I'm here to present you my trilogy about the Four Dwarf houses in the East of Middle Earth, a story inspired by J.R.R Tolkien and his universe presented in The Lord of the Rings saga. The author once told about the dwarf houses of the west, as seen in The Hobbit and LOTR movies, but not much was told about the other ones far on the east.


The Eastern Dwarfs

Part One: The Red Fields

By

Leo deSouza

Copyright © 2016

Introduction.

The Eastern Dwarfs is a trilogy novel about the four dwarf houses of the east. The books will immerse the reader in a classic imaginary world we already love, while bringing fresh content for a completely new saga. New characters, landscapes and an entire plot telling the story about how the dwarfs of the east dealt with an unknown threat. A charming adventure for readers of all ages.

Chapter one: Berries and blood.

On the extreme east of the Great World, lay the four houses of the Eastern Dwarfs. The Steel Fist, known for the physical strength of their heirs, and the RockFoot, known by the stubbornness and tenacity of their folk. There were two others, the CoalLock with braids in their long hair and beards and also the Thick Beards, famous for their rigid and wide beard. These were folks who dwelt the eastern lands of this vast realm, though in the west they were known by different but related names, and along the years of this era many notable events have taken place in this land, but the stories of the people of the east have never yet been properly told.

This realm was a vast and exotic land known as Red Land, populated by some races of men, elves, dwarfs and even an odd kind of goblins, the red ones, known by their reddish skin tone and extreme aggressiveness, a strange folk that lived on the prairies, even more savage and brutal than their western kin. Not living under the rule of any tyrant or tribal hierarchy, those goblins were spread in small groups and devoted themselves to looting and theft, never forming large armies or garrisons, and never wishing to take part in any war, except when they entered the conflicts generated by their own stinginess and sordid interests. This evil kind liked to ambush and kill travelers as they walked unaware across the steppes. This type of creature was rare and their number was not nearly a match for that of the large goblin infestations of the western mountains. Brutish as they were, these who inhabited the Red Land were wiser and smarter in evilness and ruin. One could easily recognize them by the earrings and ornaments that they wore hanging in their wrinkled ears and noses. They were usually no concern for other peoples living there, for the dwarfs in their halls and fortresses, and the men in their large cities had armies and weapons that the goblins could not challenge.

The men from that place were of the eastern kind, a grim folk that dwelled the far eastern lands and had a vast kingdom, ruled by cruel kings and dragged by pitiless warrior masters, these men had no strife with the dwarfs of the Red Land, but the times were changing and war rumors had spread across this part of the World too. Even in the far Red Mountains there were tidings about struggle and about large armies moving westward, these were times when no one trusted his neighbors. The kings of those men on those days were mysterious leaders and shrewd planners, not much was known about their means and purposes, but as the shadow became larger and took many parts of this World covering it with omens of war and death, the old memories about kings of the old days had come back, and now somehow made their influence felt again as if emanating their malignant presence directly from the world of the dead.

One interesting thing about that land was its landscape, which had a unique type of ground and rock formations, different trees and soil, and a sunset that could only be witnessed in this part of the World. The soil was red clay and the vegetation had a brown tinted foliage, one could not see much green there, these landscapes were very different from all the rest. Many creatures dwelled there, big animals of many kinds, some of which were even used in war, these were the lands of the great beasts and mysterious inhabitants, the holders of the last known frontier before the unknown vastness beyond the Red Mountains to the land which is not known in stories or legends and where no road goes, where there are no maps, the unknown limits of that realm.

In this strange land, at this exact moment, two dwarfs from the house of RockFoot were walking through a field at some distance from their home, the RockFoot fortress on the extreme north portion of the mountain range, they were looking for berries to add to the pork roast that they would eat that night. One of them was Rurur, a sturdy dwarf dressed in leather, a little fat and podgy, his hands resting on the wide belt around his waist, he walked as he hummed:

" _As soon as the red sun rises in the east_

 _and all the land burns in yellow,_

 _we know that our land is the most fortunate,_

 _for here the sun rises first._

 _Nothing is like the morning sun on our skins._

 _Unlike the cold and lifeless west,_

 _where the mist covers everything,_

 _where the sun goes into hiding shy,dying at sea_.

 _This is our land, the Red Land of the four houses._

 _Yet no man or any kind,_

 _can say they are more fortunate than us._

 _Because we are the ground, and the ground is us_."

The other dwarf, Olaf, leaned his head and twisted his mouth looking at him. "Someday ye will end up sticking that thick-skinned foot on a spearhead!" he said as he walked through the brown grass. Olaf was a little bit more burly and had a shorter beard, but in essence he was a dwarf like any other.

"Yes and then the spear will bend, it has happened before," Rurur replied as he raised his foot pointing to it. "RockFoot we are called, and this is why they sent us in this task, for none is better prepared to walk long distances and handle the sun than I."

Olaf shook his head. "Why do ye think Madame Blavat sent us here? She knows ye are the fitter to find a berry bush than any other, ye can feel its smell from very far."

"Oh… this is for sure, but one should not feel ashamed for liking food."

"Then this is why she sent me alongside you. To prevent you from eating the berries."

"What ye saying? I have much regard for my folk, and I would not commit such a rudeness," Rurur replied with his rough voice.

Olaf gestured, aloof. "Yet more berries are necessary for a decent meal," he said.

"Do ye see any more fruits? I think we have already picked them all."

"We go further… There are always more berries. It is a vast land until the sea."

"Then we can keep on to the other side of the World looking for berries, if ye think our feet can handle it."

Now Olaf gave a blow in the air. "Ye can go back empty-handed and tell everyone that there were no more berries, lazy rascal!"

Rurur just grunted; they kept walking now with some effort as they were climbing a slightly sloped part of the terrain. It was already late afternoon and the sunlight made the place golden while the grass glistened, there were some sparrows flying around and a soft, warm breeze. Nothing could be heard but the birds, the wind in the leaves and the footsteps of the dwarfs on the grass. They were distancing from the road to look for berry bushes in more hidden areas, into the fields; the fruitful trees on this portion of land were more abundant than in any other area around the fortress, and actually quite abundant if compared with any other place in the entire east. Many trees and bushes grew there that could provide a good amount of berries and they were not that tall, so fitting the size of the dwarfs to reach the fruits on the branches. Some say that was lucky for the dwarfs to have such type of trees around, some say that this was actually one of the reasons that led them to build their fortress there.

Now Rurur spoke again, "Have ye ever heard about wereworms? They say they live in the ground, right under our feet, they are like giant worms, the size of a tower of many levels, and they can dig holes in rock, large enough for an entire army to pass. And they even say that there are smart orcs in the west that can control them."

Olaf grunted. "This is the biggest foolishness I've ever heard in my life. There are not such things. It looks more like an absurd story, written by a very bad writer, to please silly children. I have heard stories about wereworms, and they are big, but not that big."

"At least that is what people tell," Rurur replied as he shrugged. He came gently passing his hand through the high grass while he walked, "ye know… There are many good stories around, werewolf stories, vampire stories, undead stories and dragon stories, and doubting them is killing the fun about it."

"Dragons are all dead," Olaf replied.

"Oh really? So where are their corpses? There would be their big bones for us to see where they died."

"Hunf… they are all rotten, of course, there was a big one, I mean, the biggest of all, killed by a mighty elf hero… I forgot his name now… another one was killed by one of our kin, but this one was not a dragon, not properly, must be buried somewhere else, even those dragons who fled wounded must now be dead on some mountain peak. They say some dragons swallowed the heroes who tried to slay them, even some from our kin. That gives origin to the legend that some of these creatures actually swallowed magic rings and other artifacts together with their bearers."

"What about the sylvan elves? I have heard that they are like jugglers… that they can jump very far and do many tricks."

"Ye know that there are elves who live close to us in the south, we've seen them once, a few years ago, in the festivals," Olaf replied.

"Yes but, I'm talkin' about the elves of the forests of the west, as they say."

Olaf stopped walking and put his hands on his belt, taking breath as he looking up to the sky. "They tell many stories, and I don't believe many. Ye should stop listening to these childish stories. And ye should work more. Why don't ye go the forges and ask for a good hammer? There must be many door hinges to be repaired, and many wagons to be adjusted. And a body that works keeps a healthy mind, a mind that doesn't think about foolishness."

"Maybe I'll go to our cousins' house, Steel Fist cousins, and ask for a good hammer, but that would be a work hammer, not a war hammer, I'm not meant to be a warrior."

"What if ye ever come across someone who wants to kill you? A red goblin, or a man. Anyway, hammering a nail is not that different from hammering someone's head," Olaf argued.

"Did ye ever get into struggle with a goblin, or even with a man?" Rurur asked.

"Well… not exactly a struggle but an argument that almost ended up in slapping and punching."

"With a man, or with a goblin?"

Now Olaf spit on the ground, took a long blade of grass and put its tip in his mouth, chewing it. "Did ye ever hear about anyone arguing with a goblin? Ye stupid wretch!"

Rurur just twisted his mouth and snorted as they began to walk again. The dwarfs went ahead and among some bushes but none of them had fruit, some more walking and Rurur stopped again, to take a breath. "I think there is no more at all. Let's go back, there are already enough for some pies, and who cares about pies after all when ye do have pork?" he said.

But Olaf gave no answer, he climbed a small mound and stood on it looking ahead. "This is why ye keep fat and lazy, Rurur. I wonder what would happen if ye was the one responsible for things related to safety and order in the stronghold."

Rurur frowned. "Why do ye think they would put me in such a charge? I'm not someone appropriate for these kind of things. But hear me, Olaf, I ask you. What do ye think that would happen if there were not one like me to take care of the other matters besides safety?"

"What kind of matters?" Olaf asked with a sarcastic tone.

"Matters like… taking care of business relationship between folks."

"Oh ye!" Olaf exclaimed. "Guess ye refer to your… intervention in that trade agreement."

"Well, yes. Ye must admit that without me things would not have ended up well on that occasion."

"Ye had got yourself into a negotiation that had nothing to do with you. And no one invited you."

Rurur said with a gesture, "Yes but in the end it was me who arranged things and proposed an agreement."

"And ye charged them for this!" Olaf continued.

"A small quantity, nothing more than fair."

Olaf narrowed his eyes looking at something in the distance. "Is that what I think it is?"

Rurur looked out to check. "I see red dots among green and brown… Yes, it might be."

Both quickened their pace and walked down the mound towards what they saw as their feet smashed the grass of the field. As they got closer they could see the berries on a nearby bush ahead, and they went there as someone who arrives late for a dinner.

"Don't eat it!" Olaf exclaimed. "There is not that much and we must take it to Madame Blavat, otherwise she will kill us."

They reached out to take some of the fruits.

"I already told you, I'm actually not that interested in these fruits as the pork waits for us," Rurur said.

They stood there taking the fruits and kept them in a leather bag, their hands were already red from the juice of some smashed berries since their fingers where too thick for such a task. Olaf suddenly stopped and looked at Rurur's face. "What is this red thing leaking from your mouth?" he asked.

"What? I need to taste some to know if they are mature," Rurur replied.

Olaf one more time shook his head. The bags were almost full when they heard the heavy stomping of something walking on the grass ahead, beyond the bush. Olaf stood on tiptoe to look through the leaves, he stopped and stared, Rurur was lower so he could not look. "What?" he asked, pulling Olaf.

A yowl was heard. Rurur opened apart the bush branches looking through it. Olaf hissed, " _Shhh_ … Great Beast…"

It was then that both saw, as Olaf said, a huge quadruped beast that looked similar to the rhino we know, except that it was twice as large. The big beast was there, at some distance, grazing peacefully on the lawn. The dwarfs advanced slowly through the bush foliage, reaching the other side, then they stood quiet, looking at the animal from behind a small mound.

"Look how big it is, think about how much meat it has," Rurur said.

"Don't be stupid, we can't kill it, its skin is too tough."

Rurur got quiet for a moment and then whispered, "Yes... but we could get a ballista..."

Olaf motioned in disapproval. "Ye don't even know if its flesh is edible."

"Of course it is... it's like a boar, just bigger."

The sun had set and the ambience was getting dark, some clouds in the sky had a pink color. In that region the sunset was generally associated with the end of the heat and the almost immediate sensation of cold spreading around. Both dwarfs stood there looking at the beast as they heard the sound of its mouth chewing grass. Then a wind gust was felt, the leaves stirred and something passed flying above them like a lightning, they crouched as they looked up.

"What was that?" Rurur asked.

"Shut up!" Olaf whispered.

The Great Beast lifted its head as if it had noticed it too.

"It's a damn dragon..." Rurur whispered.

Olaf looked up around trying to see what it was but saw nothing. "There are no more dragons, the last one was killed by the men, I told you about this! This is no dragon..."

Rurur looked down as if thinking. "There are not many things that fly and that can blow wind like that, and at that speed."

"Yes... there are not, and I never heard about great eagles coming that far."

Rurur took one portion of berries from the bag and ate them, chewing the fruits as the juice leaked from the corner of his mouth to his beard.

"What have I told you about not eating the berries?" Olaf asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that suddenly I became anxious… no dragon, no eagle."

The skies were getting dark quickly and the diffuse light dazzled them, then wind gusts were felt, the wind blew making the grass bend down. The dwarfs looked up and saw the mass of a big belly passing above them. A big flying monster was now landing above the Great Beast, it stuck its claws in the great animal and bit its neck, dropping its weight on the defenseless prey and causing it to fall beneath its huge body. The Great Beast growled before falling, Rurur was astonished. "Oh! Big Flying Beast!"

"Shhh!" Olaf hissed.

Both stood looking at the scene while the predator killed its prey.

"Look at all the blood..." Rurur whispered.

"Ye shut your mouth up before it notices us! Where did this creature come from?" Olaf asked as he crouched a little more.

Rurur saw him hiding and did the same. The big flying monster was now tearing the flesh of the dead animal and beginning to eat it. Rurur looked at Olaf as if expecting something from him. "What do we do?"

Olaf looked at the berries in the bags and then back to the carnage happening ahead. "Let's not spoil its appetite, nor give him our flesh as an extra spice..."

"Yes… this sounds like a good idea."

For a while they just watched the scene. Blood spilled from the dead carcass, flesh being ripped and bones being broken in a savage carnage. The more the flying monster seemed satisfied, the more the dwarfs crouched. It was then that Rurur spoke again, "Are ye feeling…?"

"What?" Olaf asked looking at him.

The weather suddenly got colder and darker, strangely darker than it should be. Then the sound of horse steps on the grass were heard, a sound like metal boots hitting stirrups, the dwarfs looked up to the sky and saw some dark clouds; the ambience had changed quickly, and with no visible explanation. A third newcomer showed ahead, a dark horseman on his horse, and what a big, muscular dark horse, they thought. The horseman was wearing a black cloak that covered his entire body; he slowly approached the flying beast as it was still eating the prey, the big monster noticed his presence and turned his head to stare at him in a quick motion. The rider dismounted with a smooth leap but when his weight hit the ground it was as if a boulder had fallen there. The flying beast turned toward him and bent its wings getting in an attack stance. Olaf and Rurur were sure that the monster would devour the rider at any moment but then the mysterious newcomer reached out his hand toward the the creature, the beast hesitated for a moment and growled. In a quick blow, it bit the rider's cloak, a small piece of cloth was ripped off and fell on the ground. But the rider had no reaction at all; he then went closer to the beast and the dwarfs heard strange sounds, like an evil voice talking in a malignant incomprehensible language, a ghost whispering words of death. The beast lowered its head and froze, the rider went even closer, his voice was heard like a dark murmur in the air. Olaf looked at Rurur and saw he was pale like milk.

It was then that the dwarfs witnessed the strangest scene of the entire episode, the flying beast bent and laid down on the ground, the rider circled its head and in a rapid jump mounted the monster. The big beast stirred up and twisted its head as it roared. The Dark Rider said one more time the strange words, the flying monster opened its wings and growled so loud that both dwarfs covered their ears as the sound was tremendous. Then it flapped its wings and jumped in the air making so hard a wind blow that it caused all the grass around to bow down. Olaf and Rurur crouched down and hid in the bush, the monster and its rider went higher, its body passed above them again and the last rays of sunlight dimly lit the ambient once more. The dwarfs looked at each other and stood silent for a few moments, trying to recover to say something, then finally Rurur spoke, "By the bones of our fathers... what was that?"

Olaf did not answer, he got up and looked at the dead animal carcass; that part of the field was covered in blood.

Rurur continued, "Did ye see what I just saw? I think…"

"Where is the horse?" Olaf interrupted.

The other dwarf looked around trying to find it. "It's gone... like a ghost... we should go back… Now…"

"Maybe this is the best idea ye have had in a long time!"

They rose from the ground and were about to leave when Olaf held Rurur's arm. "Wait!" he said. He advanced towards the big dead animal, Rurur saw him crouch to take something from the ground, and in the exact moment he did it, Olaf froze and fell down.

"Oh!" Rurur exclaimed and he ran to his friend. He reached Olaf and noticed he was pale and petrified, his body was cold like ice, in his hand was a piece of cloth, and Rurur saw the moment when it disintegrated in the hand of his friend, like burning paper. "What are ye doing?" he asked, resting his friend's head on his lap.

Olaf seemed unconscious, but with some slaps on his face, he came back.

"Olaf! Talk to me!" Rurur insisted.

"I… I saw something… Shadows moving…" Olaf babbled.

Rurur helped his friend to get up. "Whatever it was, let's talk about it under the rocky ceiling of our house!"

The two dwarfs rushed back to the road, and then towards home, back to the RockFoot stronghold, on the hillside.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**

More about dwarfs.

The Eastern Dwarfs saga is a trilogy and you can get the first book for free! Find out more about it in the official website.

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